


then only for a minute

by g0ldendays



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20083687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ldendays/pseuds/g0ldendays
Summary: Pierre has always known Charles is a bright star. And he was a fool to believe for one minute, even just a second, that he could be one as well.





	then only for a minute

**Author's Note:**

> I cope by writing, I'm very sorry. I'm also very mad. Please know that I love Pierre and Alex both with my entire heart and this isn't meant to shit on either of them. There isn't even much of a plot, I just had to get my thoughts out in a shippy way I guess :')

Pierre has always known Charles is a bright star. And he was a fool to believe for one minute, even just a second, that he could be one as well. Sure, he won the 2016 GP2 season. Sure, he was a Red Bull junior. Sure, he was promoted to F1 and then to Red Bull a year later. It wasn't meant to last. Realistically, Pierre knew that. It had been unreal, amazing, wonderful to be promoted to Red Bull. He had had a great time at Toro Rosso in 2018 and while it maybe wasn't everything it could've been, it was good and Pierre could see himself do it for a couple more years, maybe get promoted to Red Bull in 2020 or 2021. And then Daniel left and Red Bull needed a replacement. Brendon's contract wasn't going to be renewed for 2019 and there was no other option than Pierre. He felt honoured, despite it being a decision born of necessity, not because they wanted him. And when Charles was signed to Ferrari for 2019, everything had seemed so bright. 

And Pierre let himself believe it. 

Charles thrived in Ferrari. He made mistakes, but he also performed well. He bounced back from difficult weekends like Bahrain and Monaco and filed every single mistake somewhere in his mind so he would never repeat it. Pierre tried to learn from him and he felt like he was, indeed, learning. Perhaps not at such a steep learning curve as Charles was, but he was learning. He didn't make a mistake twice. But it wasn't enough. At Silverstone, everything finally seemed to be going upwards, but then came Germany. Rain had never been Pierre's favourite but he hadn't been doing too shabby. There were only three or two more laps to go, he wasn't sure what his engineer had told him, when he crashed with Alex. He hadn't been pulling out from behind Alex sharply enough and just destroyed his front wing on the left rear of the Toro Rosso. Pierre didn't see Charles that day until hours after the race. He had been beating himself up about it, for being too high on his Silverstone performance, for not steering sharply enough, for ruining everything, and Charles hadn't been doing much better. They were both silent that evening, neither knowing what to say to the other that could make it any better. Hungary wasn't much better, despite Pierre finishing in sixth. He had been lapped by Max, who had almost won the race, and had been beaten by a McLaren. 

They were heading into summer break and Pierre knew, as he packed his things to leave Hungary on Sunday evening, that this had been the last time he had driven his RB15. Horner and Marko kept saying he would be allowed to finish the season at Red Bull but it was complete and utter bullshit and they all knew it. He had stopped reading comments and tweets and press releases after Australia. It had broken him completely after his first race in Red Bull, so much that Charles had taken his phone and resolutely turned it off. Usually, summer break was a relief and a breath of fresh air to take some time off and gather his thoughts, gain back his confidence which had taken hit after hit as the season progressed. And as Charles shone bright, Pierre felt himself falling deeper and deeper. It was difficult, to see his best friend do so well. They had been so exciting to tackle this big step to the top three teams together and Pierre had, perhaps foolishly, let himself believe they'd share a podium sooner or later. 

Charles was off to Greece with friends for a week but Pierre hadn't bothered to book himself a holiday to a sunny place, instead choosing to vacation at his parents' house. He knows what is happening as he sees Marko's name pop up on his screen, doesn't wanna answer the call at all. He wants to call Charles, speak to him, let his soft voice take him away to better days, when the future still looked bright. But he's an adult and he can't run from this. So he answers, nods mechanically as he gets told in a few curt sentences that they've decided to swap him with Alex, voices his agreement in a neutral tone and listens to the hang up tone for too long. That's what it took, just a few minutes to finally edge him off that cliff he had been heading towards for months. Pierre debated calling Charles to let him know but didn't want to disturb him while he was enjoying his time off.

Pierre takes a long walk, leaves his phone at home and doesn't let himself think about what the future holds now. He'll have to send back his Red Bull things, will probably get the Toro Rosso stuff in the mail this week. With a mirthless chuckle, he remembers he still has his old Toro Rosso things from last year in a box in the attic, hadn't needed to send that back for whatever reason. When he returns to the house hours later, it's clear the news has dropped. He has a lot of missed calls and his parents look worried. He doesn't want to talk about it. Not yet. 

Charles calls him that evening, just the once, but Pierre picks up. Charles is the only person he wants to talk to right now, so he hadn't turned his phone off yet. "Pierrot," Charles says, his tone slightly worried but there's an underlying tone of anger. 

"Mon petit," Pierre chuckles. He's usually not very good at hiding his feelings but he feels they're tucked away so deeply by now, it will take moving heaven and earth to dig them up. 

Charles doesn't ask how he's doing. He's always been able to read Pierre, even if it's over a phone call. "Do you need me to come to France?" is what he asks instead. 

"Would it be terribly selfish of me if I said yes?" 

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to come," Charles replies and Pierre hears he's shoving things into a suitcase in the background. "Greece is bloody hot." Pierre knows what his tone means. _We're not discussing this on the phone, but we're talking about this as soon as I land._ "I faceplanted the ocean on a waterski today." 

"I saw you were wearing that bandana again," Pierre retorted. It was almost as if nothing had happened today and the world hadn't tilted on his axis. He could always count on Charles to put things into perspective. "Doesn't look as good on you as it does on me."

"Oh, don't lie." A laugh on the other side of the phone. "I look better in that bandana than you ever will." A long silence as Charles says some colourful French curse words. "I'll be there in three hours," Charles says then. "Turn off your phone, don't answer anything else and don't read anything. I swear I will have your head if you read anything online right now." And he hangs up.

As Pierre drives to the airport, not too far from his parents' place, and then waits in his car, he debates if he should text Alex congratulations. After all, despite being absolute shit for Pierre, it was a big step for Alex. But he decides against it, knowing it will probably just come off as bitter and mean right now and that's not what he wants at all. It's not Alex' fault that he had been underperforming. And Pierre was worried for Alex. If he had done less than stellar with only one season of experience in Toro Rosso, how would Alex do with half a season? Lost in thoughts, those three hours flew by. It was nearing three AM and Charles' flight was definitely the last one landing for the day. It wasn't even a full flight, so no one really notices Pierre as he waits patiently for Charles. 

And then he's there, and he's warm and Pierre holds him like his life depends on it. Perhaps it does, in some way. His world has been shifted on its axis today and nothing is certain except for Charles, right here and now. And for a minute, Pierre lets himself believe it will be okay, they will find a way to deal with this and he will find his footing again in the team that taught him so much last year. But as they get home and into bed, there is no thinking of the future, not even tomorrow. There are just the crushing, overwhelming feelings of _not being good enough_ as Charles holds him tight.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to rage with me on [Tumblr](http://callumilott.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
